Should Have Stayed
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Theo decides to stay and fight during the battle. Blaise can't just let him go.::for Ana


_For Ana_

_Word Count:_ 1056

* * *

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Blaise demands, his fingers curling around Theo's thin wrist._

_Theo takes a deep breath, watching as the rest of their House does as instructed and files out of the Great Hall, following Filch along. If he was smart, Theo would keep his head down and move along. Smart keeps people alive._

_But he knows he can't. Maybe he isn't like his father. Maybe he doesn't have that skull and serpent on his flesh to force his loyalties. It doesn't matter. His father and the others will find a way inside. If Theo isn't there, if he runs when he has a chance to bring honor to his family…_

_"I have to do this," he says softly._

_Blaise shakes his head, squeezing his wrist tighter. "No," he says. "No, you really don't."_

_Blaise could never understand. He isn't faced with the pressure that Theo knows all too well. The Zabinis have done a good job of keeping their heads down, always toeing the line between dark and light. Blaise is so beautifully grey, and there is still hope for him._

_But not for Theo. He has no choice._

_"I'll see you on the other side of the war," Theo says, pulling out of his boyfriend's grip. _

_He sighs heavily. If he knew how to put feelings into words, he would say something. Unfortunately, eloquence has never been his strong point. All he can do is offer Blaise a small smile and hope that it says everything that he cannot._

_"You're an idiot," Blaise tells him._

_Theo laughs. "Yeah. I know."_

* * *

Theo hates this. His hands tremble as his fingers fumble with the emerald tie. He's never been any good at this.

The thought makes him laugh, the sound dry and bitter, devoid of humor. Good at what? At tying ties? At grieving? At struggling to keep his head up?

Most days, it feels like he's treading water with no hope in sight. He wonders what it would be like to just stop, to give up and let himself drown. Merlin knows it would be more peaceful than this.

He tries to tie the tie again, but he fails. With a frustrated groan, he snatches the strip of silk, crumpling it in his hand before slinging it across the room. Why should he care what he looks like? It isn't as though he's trying to impress anyone anyway.

There's a knock at the door. His aunt pushes it open before he can even answer. "We're leaving," she says, her golden eyes moving critically over him. Her lips curl into a snarl. "Get ready. You have one minute." With that, she's gone.

_Get ready. _Theo doesn't think he'll ever be ready. Not for this.

* * *

_War isn't what he thought it would be. There's no thrill, no glory. Theo would follow the Carrows' orders like everyone else and torture kids who earned punishments, but this is different. These are people he's known for years, people are able to fight back. _

_He never casts a single curse. All takes is a jet of green crashing into a young woman only a few feet away from him, and he loses his nerve. His stomach grows unbearably acidic, and vomit snakes its way up his esophagus._

_This is real. Really real. He collapses against the wall, sliding to the floor. As the battle rages around him, he doubles over and throws up._

* * *

His aunt scolds him the whole way there. His father would never look so disheveled. He should be happy his mother isn't alive to see him being so ungrateful to his family. He's lucky he's allowed to leave the house at all.

It's been a week since the battle and moving in with his aunt, and he's already learned to tune her out. Sometimes Theo wonders if maybe Azkaban would have been better than this. In the end, though, that bloody Granger spoke on his behalf. She and the Weasley girl testified that Theo never raised his wand, that he was too busy…

He shakes his head, tears stinging his eyes. He doesn't want to think about that. He _can't _think about that. Not now. Not yet. Theo just needs a moment of peace, a moment where his demons do not threaten to destroy him.

* * *

_"You really shouldn't have come back."_

_Theo looks up. He wonders if maybe he's been hit with something, if maybe he's hallucinating as he dies slowly. That's the only reason Blaise would be standing before him. _

_"Come on." Blaise reaches out a hand, and it's solid; it's real. "We can maybe still get out."_

_"What the hell are you doing here?" Theo demands._

_Blaise just grins, squeezing his hand. "Did you really think I would just leave you here?"_

_Theo doesn't have a chance to answer. He opens his mouth, but the words are swallowed up by a scream. Everything around him seems to slow. A jet of green light comes for Blaise, and Theo can see it, but he can't react. He is frozen in place._

_Blaise falls, and Theo drops to his knees, desperately cradling him. "Blaise," he says urgently, shaking his boyfriend. "Blaise, no! No! Don't do this! Don't you fucking dare!"_

* * *

They don't know who fired the Killing Curse that struck Blaise. Theo will never know if it was an accident, or if maybe someone didn't like Blaise's neutrality and decided to take matters into their own hands. All he knows is that Blaise came back for him and paid the ultimate price.

"Be quick about it," his aunt says as they near the Zabini estate. "I haven't got all day to wait around for you. It's all well and tragic, but you can't cry over a friend forever."

Theo decides to ignore this. Head held high, he walks through the doors.

"This is hand-carved mahogany," he hears Mrs. Zabini tell someone as Theo nears the casket. "My Blaise would have loved it."

She's right. Blaise always loved the finer things in life; maybe he would feel the same in death.

"I should have stayed with you," Theo whispers. "I'm sorry."

* * *

_He doesn't care about the chaos around him. Blaise is gone, and it's all his fault._

_"I'm sorry," he croaks. "I'm so sorry."_

_But his words are not enough to bring Blaise back. _


End file.
